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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30058947">42</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeepingintheTARDIS/pseuds/WeepingintheTARDIS'>WeepingintheTARDIS</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fix-It, Parallel Universes, Pete's World (Doctor Who), Post-Episode AU: s02e13 Doomsday, Reunion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:01:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30058947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeepingintheTARDIS/pseuds/WeepingintheTARDIS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He hadn't counted the days since the battle at Canary Warf, nor had he counted the weeks, nor the months. No, instead, he had counted centimetres. (reunion fic starring David Tennant's extensions from his Richard II days)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally written in 2015, now being revised and hopefully finished.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He hadn't counted the days since the battle at Canary Wharf, nor had he counted the weeks, nor the months. He simply couldn't bear to think of time like that. For him, being a Time Lord, time never was a straight line. One moment he could be in London, decades before it would happen, the next he could find himself in the 24th century where the events of that terrible day were long forgotten, but never once could he cross his own timeline and go back to that particular day. He didn't want to know the absolute time that had passed. Instead, he had counted centimetres.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five. That was when it had happened. She had fallen through the void, the blank wall in Torchwood. If only she had held on for ten more seconds... What if Pete hadn't been there at exactly that fatal moment? He'd failed her, he had failed himself, but at least the universe was safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At six centimetres he had found a tiny gap in the universe, just about to close, and she had come all the way to Norway, following a voice she wasn't even sure was real. During those precious two minutes he had left to spend with her, he had failed himself again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course he'd been wanting to tell her back then. He'd been thinking about doing that for a long time, but had been waiting for the right moment. Then suddenly this had been the last moments with her he would ever have. But he couldn't say it. Of what value are words when spoken as a final farewell? It had taken him too long to understand, seeing her standing on that beach, that she already knew. She had only needed him to acknowledge it and this realisation had finally given him the courage to speak the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Too late. He had gotten his one and only chance to tell her what they'd both known for a long time and he had wasted it. He had failed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first decimetre had passed the quickest, and had also been the most painful. He had spent his days alone in the Tardis, desperately trying to find a way to heal his own heart and hers. Maybe he should have decided back then that he should just forget and move on. He always did. But he didn't want to forget. He needed something to remind him of her forever.  And so he had started counting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he reached seventeen he had thought most of the pain was over. He had started to travel again, exploring time and space, just as he had done before the time war.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At twenty he understood that it had never been a good idea to go back to earth in the first place. He had even tried travelling with a new companion, a nice young bloke called Ivo. He shouldn't have stayed. Not when everything he saw reminded him of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On one occasion, in Washington he was confronted with a woman who looked just like Yvonne. Angrily he had lost his mind, ending world war 6 by blowing up 3 continents, before locking himself into the Tardis, leaving the poor Ivo behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had been staying in the void for 3 long centimetres, unable to do anything but sleeping, crying and letting the Tardis take care of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How he had reached thirty-five he didn't know. By that time he had built up a new life on a planet far away from earth and had lost it again. He'd gone crazy, begging everyone to kill him, but no one would. He escaped from the clinic three months after they'd put him in it and had run back to the only home he knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forty. He had finally started to come to terms with himself, had saved about fourteen planets and had even considered taking a new, nonhuman, companion. The boy had fallen into a supernova before he got the chance to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tardis woke him by softly humming to him. The Doctor groaned and pulled the covers over his head. Today he had reached forty-two. Reluctantly he got out of bed and dressed himself in his grey suit. After Bad Wolf Bay he had only worn his black one and on special days, like this, he covered himself in grey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After having run the programs for the daily checks on the Tardis and their surroundings he pulled himself together and made his way towards the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There it was, the same as all those times before, waiting for him on the table. Only this time the cake had forty-two lit candles neatly placed on top of it. He slowly sat down on the only chair and fiddled with his hair. Sighing he retrieved a band from his trouser pockets and roughly put his hair in a ponytail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forty-two centimetres... It had grown so slowly lately. His last "celebration", when he'd reached forty-one, had been at least five months ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Doctor stared into the flames, tears forming in his eyes and blurring his vision. 'Oh Rose-' he breathed. 'I'm so sorry, I'm so very very sorry...' He started sobbing into his hands as he retraced all the memories of her he had collected in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His Rose, his pink and yellow human, had always been so brave. She was like a light to him, guiding him through the darkness that was left of him after the time war. He had sent her home, but she had come back for him and had been willing to die if that meant he could live.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regeneration, New New York, cybermen, being stuck on a doomed planet, saving each other, flirting, arguing, holding hands, hugging... but never crossing that line. And oh, he regretted flirting with Reinette, he regretted never telling her how sorry he was and how he had never meant to leave her alone on that spaceship, he regretted not being brave enough to cross that thin line, he regretted never having been able to tell her what exactly she was to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually he calmed down enough to stop crying. He stared at the cake and closed his eyes, wishing the same as all those times before: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please give me a chance to tell her I'm sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please give me a chance to tell her that I love her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please give me one more chance to get her back</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath and blew.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Landing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Tardis lands</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With a loud screeching sound the Tardis took off, the sudden jerk sending the kitchen furniture slamming into the opposite wall. The Doctor suddenly found himself on the ground, rolling over on one knee and bracing himself for the recoil as the acceleration stopped. A  cupboard sprang open and a variety of mugs and plates rained down, shattering to pieces on the ground. The Doctor didn't have time to mourn them as the cake came sliding back at him at a terrifying speed. He ducked to the right just in time and heard the plate break before the soft cake splattered across the tiles.</p><p>Red lights started flashing as the Tardis shuddered and groaned. The screeching continued as they seemed bound somewhere between takeoff and landing, the penetrating sound periodically drowned out by the deep ringing of the Cloister Bell.</p><p>The Doctor scrambled to his feet, running the short distance back to the console room. The ground beneath his feet was turning as the Tardis shook vehemently, as if trying to shake something off and the Doctor was being flung from side to side in the small corridor.</p><p>He pushed himself up at the wall, completely disoriented by the flashing lights, and steadied himself. He pushed forward,  rounding the corner and-</p><p>His heart sank. There was the kitchen door again. He was back at the start. Something was definitely not right. Something was very very wrong. Whereas the little kitchen had previously been just around the corner of the console room, he now found himself in the middle of a labyrinth.</p><p>'Oh, come on!' he shouted. 'Don’t do this to me...'</p><p>Desperately the Doctor looked around for any sign that would lead him directly to the consoles. He felt the Tardis' consciousness touching his mind, sending a rather unpleasant tickle down his spine, the equivalent of a scream. It nudged him to the right and he went that way, following the instructions of the machine to make it through the maze of corridors.</p><p>He ran past the library, noticing that there now was a huge waterfall flowing out of one of the higher shelves. As he rounded another corner, the hard tiles changed into soft yellow grass that smelled like bananas.</p><p><em>The Tardis is disintegrating</em>, he thought, <em>the realities of separate rooms are blending into each other</em>.</p><p>There! He sprinted the last metres and jumped onto the platform surrounding the consoles. The sound of a dull explosion reached him and the corridor he had just been in collapsed. The shock threw him off balance and he bruised both his knees sliding over the grating.</p><p>Hauling himself to his feet again, the Doctor grabbed the consoles. One look at the screen told him they had taken off and the Tardis was desperately trying to land. He ran to the other side, rapidly pushing buttons and pulling levers to stabilize her. No reaction. He tried it again, his hands working all over the console, but it didn't matter. Smoke was leaking from under the panels and suddenly, with a loud crack, the glass column broke. The Tardis wasn’t reacting to his touch anymore. The shaking increased and the sound of the Tardis landing became ear-splitting as she worked against herself with all her might.</p><p>The Doctor couldn't think straight. Landing had never been a problem before. Something must have happened, something must have forced them to leave. The Tardis would never have a problem with taking him somewhere, except…</p><p>The blood drained from his face as the only logical explanation presented itself.</p><p>Except if the laws of time prohibited him from being there.</p><p>The Tardis materialized in mid air.</p><p>The Doctor screamed. Panic washed over him when he realized what was happening. He started smashing the buttons on the consoles in a desperate attempt to send them back, but the controls were dead. With a final crashing noise the Tardis hit the ground. The impact had the Doctor flying backwards. He could feel two of his ribs break before his head hit the solid wall and he lost consciousness.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>'Do you think this is <em>that thing</em>?' The last words were merely a whisper.</p><p>'It certainly looks like it.' another, deep manly, voice answered. ‘What do you think, guys?'</p><p>'Maybe.'</p><p>'I'm not entirely sure.'</p><p>'We should let Mickey take a look.'</p><p><em>Mickey?</em> The Doctor groaned and blinked heavily as his vision slowly became more clear. <em>Mickey the idiot?</em></p><p> </p><p>A pair of footsteps introduced another speaker, this one sounding authoritative. ‘Smith’s on a mission. Won't be back for another week. Have you managed to open this thing yet?’</p><p>‘No, sir, we tried, but we didn’t get through.’</p><p>‘Then get the truck and start loading. We’ll bring it to Torchwood One for identification. Pete will want to get a look at this.'</p><p>‘Yes, sir.’</p><p>Pete? While the discussion outside continued, the Doctor tried to sit up. Pain shot through his side, making him yelp. Darkness edged his vision and he flinched as he slowly lifted himself to his feet. Grabbing one of the coral struts for support, he took in the chaos around him. It was unusually dark as only the emergency lights were on, their spooky green glow barely illuminating the room. White smoke was still leaking from the consoles and it filled the air with a burnt smell. By the look of it, the Tardis had shut down. They must have landed, but where? Still a bit dizzy the Doctor limped towards the doors and listened.</p><p>'Sir, why don't we just send her a video call? At least then we're sure.' A woman this time.</p><p>'Because we were told not to show her these things before we're entirely one-hundred percent sure it's from him.' the man who was clearly in charge rumbled impatiently. 'Remember the last time we thought we found a message from him and it was just some space junk?'</p><p>'No, sir.'</p><p>'She couldn't handle it. Since that day everything concerning him is to be directly taken to Torchwood.' The man said matter of factly. 'Now get to work!'</p><p>Peeking outside the Doctor could see they were in the middle of a car park. A few people were putting up red/white police tape and another one was taking pictures of the crash-site. The ship had taken more than one car with them during the landing and had left a slipstream of broken glass and other bits. A man and a woman were walking away from them and two other men were standing guard a few meters away, but no-one was currently looking in his direction. Silently he stepped out of the ship, leaning heavily against the door and tapped the nearest man on the shoulder.</p><p>'Excuse me, did someone just say Torchwood?'</p><p>In merely a second all twelve heads were turned in his direction. They belonged to nine men and three women wearing matching outfits, including twelve guns that were all pointed at his chest.</p><p>The Doctor slowly raised his arms, wincing as that motion was more than a little painful.</p><p>Suddenly a sharp pain flared in his neck, almost like someone had stabbed him with a needle.</p><p>‘Hey!’ he protested weakly, clamping his hand down over the small dart and grabbing at it with steadily numbing fingers, unable to pull it out.</p><p>'I'm sorry, mate, but it's the protocol.' The man he had been talking to stepped forward just in time to catch him as his knees buckled and the Doctor passed out for the second time that day. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Torchwood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was raining lightly. Every few seconds a raindrop hit the window, sticking there until being blown away by the wind. Light music and the various lamps lit the atmosphere in the room. A man was standing behind the desk, glass of water in his right hand, the other hand casually in his pocket. He stared out of the panorama windows. Seen from this floor, London lay stretched out before him. He could literally watch over the city.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The view was one of the reasons Pete had chosen to make this room his office. Another reason was that he would only be bothered by people who really needed to see him and were happy enough to climb the stairs up to the 20th floor. The elevator only led up to the 18th floor and the only key to the door of the staircase was in his possession. He'd been very insistent on this. Since he had so much work to do for Torchwood, he couldn't afford to be distracted by people just randomly popping in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of the projects he worked on required help from professionals, as their success depended on small, but crucial elements one could easily overlook. Therefore there had been installed an online video communication system which allowed him to contact professionals from all over the world. The system also included a one-way video channel with his operating teams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since he had gotten this job, Pete had been changing many aspects of Torchwood One. With help from Rose, he had been able to set up a new investigation team specialized in alien technology. The main task of Torchwood was no longer to acquire alien technology, but to send it, along with the occasional aliens, back to where it belonged. There were a few exceptions, of course. Sometimes the props they found were too dangerous to even try to send back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And of course there had been the Doctor. At first Pete hadn't had the faintest idea about what this man had meant to Rose. He and Jackie had gotten married and Rose had become his stepdaughter. They had grown closer over time and after a while she had opened up to him. During late hours spent in his study, Rose told him about their adventures and about the wonderful man who gave her the universe. It had slowly become clear to him that the Doctor had meant everything to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose had been suffering from nightmares. Every other night she would wake up screaming his name. Jackie was the only one who could calm her down at these times, which more than once had resulted in Pete being banned from his own bedroom in the middle of the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To say that Pete was worried about Rose was an understatement. There were days he even feared she would take her own life out of sadness, but fortunately she had never made an attempt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Together with Jackie, Jake and Mickey, he had been trying to figure out how to reunite his daughter with her Doctor. There were ways to transport a single person to another universe, but most of them required dangerous alien technology and had a very low success rate. Eventually they had settled on the dimension canon. The upside: it was a relatively safe and low-energy way of spacetime travel. The downside: the making of this canon would easily take two years. This was a timeframe in which the Doctor might as well have found a way to this universe himself, or worse, have moved on and forgotten about Rose. In the meantime all Pete could do was train everyone working at Torchwood to recognise signs that the Doctor might be involved with the daily events. So far, there hadn't been a sign of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete sat down his glass and picked up the files he'd just gotten about a pair of Weevils. The creatures had been arrested after they had started a fight in the underground by throwing ice cream at innocent passengers. This was unusual behaviour, even for Weevils, he pondered, Weevils were very aggressive and it wasn't their nature to annoy tourists, they always went for the kill. Usually this alien species only hunted at night, not in broad daylight, whatever the difference was underground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a knock on the door. 'Mister Tyler?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lowered the Weevil-file, not sure if he had heard someone calling or if it was just his imagination that had distracted him, and listened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Mister Tyler?' The man knocked again. 'Pete, are you in here?'</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jake?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He wondered what his young friend was doing by his office. Nevertheless he sat down in his chair, swivelled around and pushed the button at the underside of his desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door swung open and a young man stepped inside.. He was still wearing his field outfit and there were drops of dried mud all over his face and in his short spiky hair. He was also still carrying his gun, which was against the protocols of floor 20 –weapons were only allowed on the ground floor and in the training areas. In his other hand he was holding a file similar to the one Pete was still holding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake didn't even take time to take in his surroundings or think of courtesies. He walked up to the desk and slammed the papers down in front of him. He sounded slightly out of breath as he said: 'I thought you might want to see this.' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete raised an eyebrow questioningly and changed the weevil file for the new one. Flicking through the papers with data he frowned. 'What is this, Jake?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Field report, sir.' He ran a hand through his messy spikes. 'It might have to do something with the Doctor.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete's eyes shot up, curiosity spiking. 'What makes you say that?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'We got an alert that something had fallen from the sky and had crashed in the London suburbs.' He shrugged. 'Same as usual, so we sent a team to clean the area. All we found-' He turned another five pages and revealed a high quality photo taken at the crime scene. 'A blue police box.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete studied the picture, tracing the outlines of the familiar looking blue box with his finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'We couldn't open it, couldn't break in.' Jake continued. 'Before we could decide what to do, someone stepped out.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Was it him?' Pete looked up at him desperately, even though he knew Jake would have acted otherwise if it had been. He was one of the few people at Torchwood who had personally met the Doctor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake swallowed. 'We don't know.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'What!?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'It could have been...' he stammered. 'B-But I'm not sure, he looked different. He was knocked unconscious before I got the chance to ask him for his name. Something to do with a protocol.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'That's correct.' Pete muttered, sending Jake an amused smile. The young man looked down ashamed, having violated protocol more than once. Then Pete became serious as he realised something. 'Make sure nobody tells Rose about this. Not a word!'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'I did, sir. My men's lips are sealed.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed the file and rubbed his temples, sighing deeply. 'She’ll hear about it sooner or later. I need to see him for myself. Where can I find him?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'I have ordered my men to have him taken to the medical bay for examination. He looked pretty beaten up.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'You’re coming with me.' Pete stood up, cringing inwardly as he saw the muddy trail on the carpet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jake tried to look even more ashamed as opened the door to let his boss through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Together they descended the stairs and Pete used his key to gain access to the elevator, sending them down to the medical bay on the fourth floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'What exactly was it he said?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'He said: "Excuse me, did someone just say Torchwood?"' The doors slid open and Jake had to run to keep up with his furious boss. 'Why? Is that important, sir?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Yes, Jake,' Pete answered harshly. 'It is. Otherwise I wouldn't want to know, would I?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'No, sir.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they reached the medical bay they were stopped. Two men in field outfit were guarding the door. Like Jake they were both covered in mud and they were still carrying their guns. Pete shot Jake a glare when they didn't step aside to let him through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'I'm sorry, sir,' one of them said. 'I can't let anybody in.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Why is that?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'There is a potential hostile alien life-form in there, sir.' the other answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'I can assure you that mister Tyler here knows the risk he takes when he goes inside that room.' Jake nodded towards the door. 'I assume we all know that he is fully authorized to take that risk.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of Jake's men reacted, apart from shifting uncertainly.. Pete sent them a thunderous glare. 'I don't have time for this. Either you let us in or you're fired.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'But-' They looked at Jake for help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'You better do as he says.' he nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally they stepped away from the entrance, still not sure what was going on. Jake and Pete quickly walked past the guards and let the door slam closed behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three men in white coats had gathered around the operation table where the potentially hostile alien life-form, humanoid and definitely male, was lying on his back. Resolutely Pete pushed the medics out of the way and stared down at the man, raking his eyes up and down the lean body and pausing on the head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In contrast with Jake and his men, this body was clean of mud. Instead severe bruising covered the left side, at least one rib was broken and both the knees had large scrape wounds on them. The face, on the other hand, was stained with dried blood, coming from one of the wounds on his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete bent down and opened one eye, closed it again and then lightly tugged at the brown hair. He stepped back and examined the face again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'It could be him...' he murmured. 'But he looks so different.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Old.' Jake whispered. 'When I met the Doctor he looked so much younger.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all studied at the unconscious body again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'How is he?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'He's pretty beaten up. Luckily, physically there's no permanent damage.' One of the doctors showed Pete his clipboard. 'The only thing off is his heartbeat. You can feel it's not normal.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doctor indicated him to check and Pete grabbed the man's wrist, searching his pulse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'It's too fast and the rhythm is just not normal.' The doctor continued. 'It's almost as if-'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'As if he has two hearts...' Pete whispered, dropping the hand. 'Time Lords have two hearts...'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Is it him?' one of the doctors dared to ask. 'Is this the Doctor?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete bit his lip. 'I don't know. Rose said he was the only Time Lord left. But I'm not sure.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'What do we do now?' Jake asked. 'He'll be out for another few hours.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'It won't take long before Rose takes notice of this.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'She'll kill us if we don't tell her.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled lightly. 'I'm afraid she will, yes.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'So?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'You go and get her.' He turned to the medical staff. 'You, when I come back, you're done with whatever it is your doing with this man and you're all gone, understood?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all nodded, knowing better than to argue with this man, and watched Pete silently as he left the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he reached the door he stopped and turned. 'Oh, and for God's sake, give him some clothes.'</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter:<br/>Will the Doctor be reunited with his Rose?</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come talk to me on tumblr! (delicatingeyebrows.tumblr.com)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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